"That truth should be silent I had almost forgot"--Enobarbus in ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, back in Rome after having been too long in Egypt.---------
Melville's PIERRE, Book 4, chapter 5: "Something ever comes of all persistent inquiry; we are not so continually curious for nothing."

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

KC Johnson's Masterpiece of Textual Scholarship on William D. Cohan's THE PRICE OF SILENCE

Durham-in-Wonderland

Wednesday, June 04, 2014

The handful of close readers of the William D. Cohan book (a
list that, alas, did not include reviewers from the Economistand Newsday)
doubtless noticed an anomaly—minor errors, usually by a page or two, in the
index. It was almost as if there were lots of small, last-minute alterations to
the book, some of which led to pagination changes that weren’t accurately
reflected in the index.

It turns out that the
manuscript was reduced by 22 pages. Some of the shift came from
modifying the spacing
and the margins. Cohan also made minor cuts of little editorial
consequence. But
myriad alterations better framed the argument, by: eliminating criticism
of the book’s protagonist, Mike Nifong; cutting passages that reflected
very poorly on Nifong’s conduct or temperament; bolstering the
Cohan/Nifong “something happened” thesis; or downplaying positive
portrayals
of the lacrosse players’ character.

The Cohan book
was filled with hundreds of pages of recycled material—paragraph after
paragraph, seemingly prepared by a research assistant, blandly summarizing an
article by reporter x or the opinions
of columnist y. It would not have been
difficult to cut 22 (or 222, for that matter) pages of fat, without (as
Cohan did) eliminating several items of significant substance.

The Smoking Gun

. . . comes in, of
all places, the acknowledgements. In the book, Cohan thanks a Nifong
acquaintance named Pat Devine, who created what the author describes as an “oral
history” of the lacrosse case. He remarks that “without Pat and her
inspiration, this book would likely not have been possible.” He then moves on to
thank other people, leaving the reader to speculate how he ever came across
“Pat” and her so-called oral history.

It turns out that a specific individual guided Cohan to Pat:
“I would also like to thank especially my friend Peter Wood, the former Duke
history professor, who introduced me to Pat, Peter’s former neighbor in
Hillsborough, North Carolina.”

So: at the last minute, Cohan chose to hide
from readers that he was a “friend” of perhaps the fiercest critic of the
lacrosse players’ character on the Duke campus, and that this same
“friend” had introduced him to a source without whom the “book likely would not
have been possible.”

It’s rather difficult to come up with an innocent
explanation for this omission.

Defending Nifong from Himself

Perhaps the most stunning deletion came in the coverage of
Nifong’s ethics proceedings, where this full paragraph was cut on what became
page 522:

“[Brad] Bannon also described how Nifong lost his temper
during a telephone call on October 20. Bannon and Cheshire . . . had written
Nifong a letter trying to get additional evidence and information from Nifong. ‘I
thought the conversation was cover at that point in time,’ Bannon testified, ‘but
Mr. Nifong then brought up a letter that Mr. Cheshire and I had sent to him regarding
other discovery issues that had come up in the intervening period of time. And he
got extremely upset with me about that letter and said we weren’t acting in
good faith as lawyers. He wanted to know why we were always accusing him of
withholding information . . . I tried to explain to him what some of our
concerns were about the discovery materials being withheld. And he sort of at
the end of the exchange, just his volume kept going up and up and up. He wouldn’t
let me respond in any way. And he finally hung up the phone on me.’ (A day
earlier, Wade Smith had testified about his April 13 meeting with Nifong and
two other defense attorneys and said that he had ‘never experienced such
behavior in his more than forty years of lawyering’ and that ‘it was clear Mr.
Nifong was extraordinarily agitated and upset, and we left.’) Nifong said of
Bannon’s testimony that it was ‘snide’ and that Bannon was ‘a little pissant,
is what he is, and there’s no cure for that. Quite frankly, whatever career he
has, I wouldn’t want.’”

(Well: Nifong got his wish.)

Consider the remarkable content of this paragraph: Nifong lashing
out at the attorney who exposed his hide-the-test-results plot; the deeply
respected Wade Smith providing historical context for Nifong’s misbehavior; and
the recounting of a private vignette that until Bannon’s testimony wasn’t
publicly known. It’s hard to imagine any reasonable editorial judgment that
would justify its exclusion, especially in a book that contains so much filler
material.

But, of course, the material in the paragraph—and especially the last two
sentences—was also wholly inconsistent with author Cohan’s portrayal of the Christ-like
Nifong, “crucified” for Duke’s sins. Instead, readers would have seen the
embittered, egotistical Nifong that so many people affiliated with the case
encountered.

The deletion of Nifong’s slur against Bannon wasn’t the only
time Cohan used the editor’s blue pencil to save Nifong from himself.
Cohan dropped two paragraphs of Nifong sounding delusional, suggesting
some sort of conspiracy theory about the Bar complaint: “The unspoken
subtext
was,” Cohan’s readers didn’t learn Nifong said, “‘We know that you are
committed to this case and if we can get anybody else but you involved
in the
case than the level of commitment would be les,’ and I completely
understood
that. I don’t think they honestly could deny that was part of their
strategy.”

Awhile later (p. 544), Cohan protected Nifong from seeming
closed-minded, cutting out two sentences in which the rogue prosecutor
discussed the AG’s evidence: “And actually assuming that I had seen the same
things that they [the AG’s office] refer to in their report upon her taking the
stand in the suppression hearing, I may easily have reached the conclusion at
that time. But other than the conclusion not to proceed with the case, I am not
sure that I would ever take that next step.” But much of the report
wouldn’t have come out at a suppression hearing, and Nifong’s admission that he
doubted he could “ever” recognize the players’ innocence, regardless of the
evidence, was telling.

Virtually the only new material gathered by Cohan came from the Nifong interviews; the
author’s handful of other interviews were far shorter and mostly of little
consequence. That Cohan cut such obviously relevant Nifong items from his book’s
major primary source shows the passion that he brought to his cause of
rehabilitating Nifong’s reputation.

Removing Sharply Negative Comments about Nifong

Several last-minute cuts applied to sharp criticisms
of Nifong, items that had been accurately offered in the penultimate version of the text, presumably from
material prepared by his research assistant. For instance, on what became p.
253, a strong attack on Nifong by the third candidate in the DA’s primary,
Keith Bishop, ultimately didn’t see the light of day. “I would have been very
certain of the facts before I jumped out in the media and virtually guaranteed
an arrest,” Cohan’s readers ultimately wouldn’t learn that Bishop said about
the book’s protagonist. Bishop added in the deleted passage that Nifong “wants
to win so badly that he will do anything and will say anything. It reflects
political immaturity. He thinks that simply pandering to race will get him the
breakout he needs.”

Cohan eliminated a paragraph (p. 272) containing Reade
Seligmann’s reaction to learning from Kirk Osborn that Nifong wouldn’t drop the
case. “I don’t know much about the law,” Seligmann said but Cohan’s readers
never learned, “but you hear the word ‘alibi’ and that’s one of the first
things that you think a prosecutor would want to have . . . you don’t charge an innocent person and an
innocent person won’t go to jail.”

Cohan also (p. 369) chopped a paragraph quoting from Duke Law
graduate Karen Bethea-Shields, who had represented a black defendant in a
racially charged 1975 murder case. Bethea-Shields, Cohan’s readers ultimately
didn’t learn, was “’appalled’ that Nifong had given so many interviews during
the early weeks of the case, and irritated that Nifong had made race such a big
factor.” Nifong’s pre-primary publicity spree, Bethea-Shields wondered, forced
people to pose the question: “Why was [race] important to bring up? You don’t
go leaking a little bit here and a little bit there and get the community all
riled.”

It’s easy to see why someone as passionate in his defense of
Nifong wouldn’t want those passages to appear in his final product.

The “Something-Happened” Thesis

In addition to rehabilitating Nifong, Cohan aggressively (as
his publicity tour demonstrated) advanced a “something-happened” thesis. Perhaps
the clearest example of this argument guiding his decision to eliminate
material came on p. 513, when he cut a quote from Inv. Ben Himan: “Himan said
that during Cooper’s investigation, he became aware of evidence he did not even
know existed. ‘They had numerous,
numerous accounts of pictures, documents, alibis, receipts. It was unbelievable
how much stuff they actually turned over to the Attorney General’s Office.”
[emphasis added]

It’s easy to see how an author who proclaimed to CNN that an
“incredible
amount of evidence” exists of a crime would want to keep out his
“definitive, magisterial” account such an assertion. Even Cohan couldn’t
try to include Himan in what the author has portrayed as a wide-ranging conspiracy to block the truth from coming out.

The “something happened” thesis also required bolstering the
credibility of murderess Crystal Mangum, a task to which Cohan took with gusto,
both in the book and in his press appearances. Indeed, even as he needed to cut
material, Cohan added 22 lines (at p. 39) from the report of UNC doctor Yvonne
Lai, who examined Mangum on the day after the part (15 March). The fresh items
included such passages as “the doctor noted that Mangum had suffered an
‘assault last night,’” that she had “new neck pain,” and felt “wobbly.” The
added passages also mentioned that Mangum was “plugged into a rape support
group” and that her boyfriend (unclear exactly who) was “very upset with her
currently because of this rape.”

These additions cemented an impression that Mangum had
experienced some sort of physical injury at the party—a useful editorial
approach for someone committed to the “something happened” thesis.

A further bolstering of Mangum appeared on p. 513, when
Cohan eliminated one of the two paragraphs (reducing the section from 27 lines
to 12) in which Himan explained why he had concluded that Mangum had lied. In
addition to the material already mentioned, Cohan’s readers didn’t learn that
Himan recounted, “On multiple, multiple times, she was contradicted with
indisputable evidence, with her time lines and pictures and stuff like that . .
. Even when she said that the two people who assaulted her brought her out to
the vehicle, they have pictures of people
putting her into the vehicle, and it’s not David Evans, and it’s not Collin
Finnerty, and it’s not Reade Seligmann.” [emphasis added]

Seven pages(!!)
after this passage disappeared from the book, Cohan included an uncorrected
assertion from Mangum, in her jailhouse interview with him, falsely asserting
that Reade Seligmann carried her to the car. Cohan had mentioned the photos,
accurately, hundreds of pages before, but only the most careful reader would
have recalled such information in evaluating Mangum’s tall tale. But it’s easy
to see how an author passionately committed to the “something happened” thesis
would remove a neutral, factual assertion from Himan that would prompt readers
to understand that his “victim” was lying through her teeth.

Heightening a Negative View of the Lacrosse Players’
Character

Cohan eliminated (p. 218) several sentences describing a spring
2006 Chronicle editorial in which the
paper’s editors argued quite strongly that the lacrosse team should be viewed
as typical Duke students, for good or ill. He also cut (p. 372) two paragraphs
from a largely sympathetic view in ESPN magazine
about the unindicted players’ experiences. And he chopped (p. 560) an entire
paragraph from David Evans, Sr., reflecting on how his “son has led the way in
handling this outrageous situation well, looking out not only for himself but
for his teammates and his friends.”

The boldest shifts, however, came in one reduction and one
addition. On what became p. 388, Cohan made a two-page deletion (the longest of
the entire last-minute editorial process) to omit all mention of the fantastic summer 2006 Chronicle article by John Taddei, featuring interviews
with Bo Carrington, Tony McDevitt, Rob Wellington, and John Walsh. As with much
else in this section of the book, the material clearly came from Cohan’s
research assistant, and faithfully summarized the article, which humanized the
lacrosse players and provided remarkable insight into their on-campus negative
experiences in spring 2006. Indeed, the article was one of the most important
media pieces in the case, representing as it did the first time that multiple
members of the team spoke on the record about their experiences in the spring
2006.

As theinterview
with team members vanished, Cohan added material
attacking the players’ character—through a lengthy three-paragraph insertion (almost
two pages) from his unidentified “friend,” Peter Wood. On pp. 179-180, readers
now heard from “friend” Wood about how lacrosse players in his class were part
of a culture “occasionally tinged with defiance, belligerence, and even
antisocial racism.” Wood purported to have confirmation of his criticism of the
players from other, unnamed professors (the Coleman Committee, of course, found
otherwise), and the added material also featured Wood affirming that he had “heard
plenty of confirmation from undergraduate remarks regarding the unsavory
reputation of the team in social matters on and around campus.” (Why a
professor was gossiping with his students about other students’ “social matters”
Cohan did not reveal.) The inserted passage concluded with the lengthy e-mail
from Group of 88’er Susan Thorne to Wood, which I profiled previously.

A largely sympathetic portrayal of members of the team, from
one of the best media sources on the case: out. A character assault from the
author’s “friend”: in.

-----------------

The only change to the final manuscript that seemed to rebut
Cohan’s thesis came on p. 538; Cohan added a paragraph summarizing the portion
of the Cooper report describing the DNA transference theory. This change,
ironically, suggests that Cohan was well aware of the transference theory—even as
he went on talk show after talk show never once mentioning it, even bizarrely suggesting that defense attorneys claimed that the possible DNA match came from
Dave Evans picking up the fingernails from the floor.

Cohan’s book, and his many guilt-presuming public appearances,
speak for themselves. Even if he had made no cuts, the book’s biases would have
been self-evident. But the last-minute editorial changes—the removal of clearly
significant items (the “pissant” comment, Himan’s first-hand recollection of
the evidence), coupled with the deception regarding both Cohan’s relationship
with Peter Wood and Wood’s role in jump-starting the entire project—gives a sense
of just how deeply committed Cohan was to his effort to rehabilitate Nifong.

A final note: Cohan’s original list of media-type sources (p. 619 of
the book) ended with a discussion of WRAL’s online archive. But in his final
version, he added the names of a few specific figures. One such addition: “K.C.
[sic] Johnson,” who author Cohan described as exhibiting an “obvious bias.”

About Me

Hershel Parker is the author of the 1997 Pulitzer finalist, Herman Melville: A Biography, 1819-1851 (Johns Hopkins, 1996) and Herman Melville: A Biography, 1851-1891 (Johns Hopkins, 2002). Each volume won the top award from the Association of American Publishers. Parker’s 1984 Flawed Texts and Verbal Icons: Literary Authority in American Fiction brought biographical evidence to bear on textual theory, literary criticism, and literary theory. Parker and the team of now mature Hayford students are finishing the final volume of the Northwestern-Newberry Edition. Robert Sandberg is helping with the layout and design of three print volumes of The New Melville Log. Parker in late 2013 is at work on Ornery People: What Was a Depression Okie?, a book about his white and red American ancestors. Parker's Melville Biography: An Inside Narrative was put on the NEW YORKER blog as one of the Books to Watch Out for in January ("Parker writes with a rare combination of humor and passion"). On 30-31 March 2013 the WALL STREET JOURNAL gave a page and a third to Carl Rollyson's review of MELVILLE BIOGRAPHY as "a superb contribution to a fledgling field: the study of the writing of literary lives."